


Game of Catch

by mariadperiad20



Series: Foray into B99 [12]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Holt is a DadTM, Missing Scene, Roger Peralta' A+ Parenting, S1Ep18, also known as the "jake calls holt dad" cold open
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:34:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22357276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariadperiad20/pseuds/mariadperiad20
Summary: “Do you want to talk about it later over a game of catch?” Holt asked.“...I’d like that.”Jake had assumed that Holt was pulling his leg, but here they were, one Saturday later.Request fic!
Relationships: Ray Holt & Jake Peralta
Series: Foray into B99 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1320137
Comments: 20
Kudos: 429





	Game of Catch

“I believe you.” Holt said, holding the cup of coffee in his hand. “Son.”

Jake grimaced, even as his heart skipped at the word. He was aware of the eyes of the entire precinct on them.

“Do you want to talk about it later over a game of catch?” Holt asked.

“...I’d like that.” Jake admitted meekly, hands awkwardly on his hips.

Jake had assumed that Holt was pulling his leg, but here they were, one Saturday later. Holt had given Jake precise directions to a park located near his home, and, when Jake had arrived, Holt was sitting - with his normal impeccable posture - on a park bench, baseball in hand. He wasn’t in his uniform - of course not, but it was still surprising to see him in civilian clothes nonetheless - and he was waiting expectantly.

“Hey, Captain!” Jake said awkwardly, sidling up to him.

“Peralta.” Holt acknowledged, getting to his feet. “I made the assumption that you were not in possession of a baseball.”

“Yeah.” Jake nodded. His hands were jammed into his pockets, and he grinned cheerfully to hide the waves of anxiety coursing through his veins.

Holt was the one to take the lead.

“The purpose of this is to toss the ball, and… provide commentary on one another’s throwing and catching techniques.”

Jake nodded again. He felt like his head was on one of those springs, and he obligingly followed Holt to a few feet away.

He stopped a short distance from Holt, and he tossed the ball to him lightly.

Jake caught it with both hands. He turned it over in his hands, buying time to think. It was clearly new - Holt must have bought it for the sole purpose of today. Well, that made Jake feel some kind of emotion.

Jake tossed it back.

“So,” He said, “About the… dad… thing.”

Holt didn’t say anything, instead just tossing the ball back, patiently waiting for Jake to gather his thoughts.

“I didn’t mean to say it.” Jake admitted, “I mean… you’re nothing like my dad. He never did any of the stuff you have. Like this - would you believe I’ve never actually had a game of catch with him before? He was my Little League coach, and he never…”

Jake tossed the ball, and it bounced off the ground before rolling to Holt’s feet.

“I suppose it’s pretty obvious I’ve never done this before, huh?” He asked with a grin, trying to lighten his clear discomfort at being vulnerable.

Holt picked the ball up off the ground, brushing off some wayward grass. “It is apparent, yes.” It was his turn to pause. “It… brings me pleasure to have this opportunity with you, then.”

They threw the baseball between each other for a while, in a comfortable silence.

Jake, after a moment, spoke again.

“It’s weird, because… I mean… you’re… I wouldn’t mind, you know. Having you be my dad.” Jake laughed a little, fake and they both knew it. “And I sometimes wonder about… you know, how different and, well, better my life would have been if you’d… been my dad.” Jake rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’d be a better cop, probably - you know, if that were possible. A better person, definitely.” Jake scuffed at the grass, baseball being held, long forgotten, in Holt’s grip.

“Jake, son,” Holt said, not unkindly, “While I cannot argue you would be more organized, you would not be a better detective, or a ‘better person’ just because of who raised you. You are an example of that. Despite your father’s nonpresence, you have become an excellent detective. And person.”

“Well,” Jake couldn’t help the edge of sadness that crept into his tone, “I still wish it could have been you.”

“I understand.” Holt didn’t admonish him on the impossibility of changing the past, instead just opting to toss the ball back to Jake.

Jake fumbled it, and bent down to scoop it off the ground.

“Do you think… he’ll ever love me?” Jake asked. At Holt's expression, he added, “I don’t think he will. But… I feel guilty for just, trying to replace him. You know?”

Holt paused. “I can’t attest to his… emotions. However, since he has not demonstrated a history of wanting to be in your life, I fail to see why you should continue to hold space for him.”

Jake shook his head. “I guess… once I admit it, it’ll mean I’m _really_ fucked up, you know? Like, right now, I can still pretend I have a dad who cared. But the moment I admit it to myself, that he never, never cared, I’ll need to… deal with it.” Jake couldn’t look Holt in the eye - he really hoped he didn’t decide to throw the ball, because it would absolutely nail him in the face- “But, I do want to. ‘Cause… you’re here. You’re doing this-” Jake gestured between them, “Emoting. Playing catch. Both of which you are _clearly_ not comfortable with, just for my sake. And… that means a lot.”

Holt nodded slowly. “I understand. And it does…” Holt looked like he was staring down the barrel of a gun, “…Mean a lot to me, as well, to have you express this to me.”

Wow. Holt, willingly expressing feelings? This was… actually happening.

Holt continued. “While I understand your situation, I am… accepting, of the fact that you do not wish to replace your father. However,” Holt paused again, “I would not be… remiss, in having you consider me a father figure.”

Jake felt something compress in his chest. But, Holt wasn’t done.

“After all, I do consider you to be like a son to me.”

Oh.

_Oh._

Jake felt his face get unreasonably warm, and had to fight back the urge to cry. Such an open display of emotions would be absolutely humiliating, especially since Holt was still standing right there, politely pretending to be unaware of Jake’s quickly spiraling demeanor.

Jake smiled weakly at Holt, trying not to show how much that meant to him - even though he was sure it was painfully obvious.

“Thanks, dad.” Jake said. Then he froze. He’d said it again.

But Holt didn’t react to it, except for a slight upward twitch of his lips towards a smile, and Jake felt himself relax.

Then the baseball came flying at him, and he ducked out of the way.

“You’re going to have to do better at that, son.” Holt said, voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

Jake rolled his eyes at him, even as a grin spread over his face, turning around and jogging after the ball.

This moment, perfectly captured in time, made Jake’s heart soar. He never wanted this moment to end - he knew it had to, eventually, but that would be okay.

Jake was happy.

And sometimes, happiness was as simple as just playing a game of catch with his dad.

… _And_ if it turned out said dad was super competitive and became hell-bent on making Jake exercise by throwing the ball as insanely difficultly as possible, Jake wasn’t going to complain.

Too much, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff!!! I don't get the opportunity to write this too much, mainly because I'm usually barreling straight for the angst territory, but this was a nice diversion from some super angsty multi-chaps I've been working on.
> 
>  _Total Request:_ if yr still taking requests, i would love more jake and holt fluff! nothing specific, i just love love love the way you write those two
> 
> If you enjoyed the fic, please feel free to kudo & comment, or check out some of my other work in the series! I take requests on tumblr (same username) :D


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